


To Infinity and Beyond

by jaeminsrenjun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Character Death, Cinderella Elements, Forbidden Love, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-23 07:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18544702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaeminsrenjun/pseuds/jaeminsrenjun
Summary: Chenle will always be the brightest star in Jaemin's universe.





	To Infinity and Beyond

Chenle’s first memory of royalty is that of a grand carriage procession driving past his house when he was seven years old. He watched with his mother and father by his side as the royal horses – magnificent creatures with dark liquid eyes and beautiful cream coats – trotted past. The King and Queen sat atop plush cushioned seats, draped in raiment bedecked with jewels, while a young boy, about Chenle’s age, was staring blankly out of the window of the carriage, mouth set in a slight pout. Chenle lit up when he spotted him and waved vigorously, which broke the boy out of his reverie; the boy grinned and waved back even harder, not stopping until the carriage was too far ahead in the distance to be seen.

Chenle thought nothing of it then. He just knew that they were, for lack of a better word, different. The horses, the elegant carriage painted white as snow with gilded edges, the fancy clothes… They were something he never dared imagine, even in his wildest dreams. Chenle and the boy existed in two different worlds, like parallel lines, destined never to meet.

(What he did not know then was their fates were already inextricably linked. Years later, their paths would cross again, and they would meet, and their lives would be changed forever.)

 

 

Chenle spends his childhood and teenage years growing up in the tiny village he calls home. His parents, though far from rich, care deeply for their son, and while not every material need is met, the one thing that Chenle never lacks is love.

Unfortunately, his mother falls ill to an incurable disease and eventually passes away, leaving Chenle and his father heartbroken. Inconsolable, his father becomes a shell of himself, and day by day, Chenle watches the light drain away from his father’s eyes.

Until one day, he is taken too.

It’s only thanks to the kindness of a few neighbours that Chenle doesn’t starve, but he’s had to grow up quicker than most. And every night before he falls asleep, Chenle longs for an escape – from the place with nothing but the ghosts of happy memories.

Unexpectedly, the chance arises a little after Chenle turns eighteen. The prince, with his own eighteenth birthday imminent, decides to host a ball to celebrate, inviting all eligible men and women in the kingdom to attend. Whoever the prince falls for will be his partner, whom he will marry if all goes well. As the most eligible bachelor in the kingdom, Prince Jisung has no shortage of people eager for his hand in marriage.

News of the upcoming Grand Ball spreads far and wide, reaching Chenle’s ears. The flame of hope burns a little brighter in his heart. He doesn’t care at all for the fame and fortune, but marrying the Prince would be his one-way ticket out of his otherwise mundane fate.

Except, what are the odds that the Prince would want to marry someone like him? Chenle frowns at his fingers, stained black with ink from working from morning till night at the printing mill, and scoffs at his own wishful thinking.

The flame in his heart goes out piteously, with nary a sound.

 

 

The wind rustles in the trees yonder, disturbing the silence of the night. Outside his cottage, Chenle looks vaguely into the distance, ruminating. The Grand Ball is in two days, and he has all but given up hope.

After what seems like an eternity, he exhales slowly, screws his eyes shut, and looks up.

There is a shooting star, painting a luminous streak in its wake as it crosses the night sky.

The old ladies in the village believe that wishing upon a shooting star will make it come true. Chenle used to laugh at the myths that spread through his village, but tonight, he decides there’s no harm in trying anyway.

“Please, let me attend the ball,” Chenle prays, hands clasped and eyes closed, voice barely above a whisper.

A loud ‘pop’ startles him into opening his eyes; out of thin air appears a human-like being with bright pink hair, large doe eyes, and lips that curve upwards in a gentle smile. Large, translucent wings on his back shimmer with every move he makes, rippling and undulating like the surface of a lake. Even what he’s wearing – a light robe draped on his body, flowy and luminous – is breath-taking.

Chenle thinks he has to be the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“Hello, Chenle,” the being greets, voice lilting mellifluously as he approaches Chenle, who stares open-mouthed, eyes widening to the size of saucers.

“Staring openly at someone you don’t know is rather unbecoming, you know,” he reminds teasingly, and Chenle snaps his jaw shut, a flush spreading from his neck all the way to the tip of his ears.

“Who are you?” Chenle asks tentatively, careful to keep a distance.

“I know you must be stunned, but don’t be frightened, I’m here to help you.” The being takes a small step towards Chenle, smile never once faltering. “My name is Jaemin. I’m a fairy.”

Almost on instinct, Chenle retorts, “Fairies don’t exist…” He trails off when Jaemin casts a glance at him, looking wounded.

“You’re looking at one right now, Chenle,” Jaemin says quietly. “And I’m the one who will grant you your wish. So you best believe it.”

The stab of guilt that strikes Chenle upon seeing how upset Jaemin is catches him off guard with its intensity. Fairy or not, Jaemin seems like a good person, after all. Hesitantly, he sticks out a hand. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”

The smile on Jaemin’s face is warm, just like his palm when he takes Chenle’s hand. “Apology accepted,” he says, shaking. Chenle’s skin tingles when Jaemin lets go, but Jaemin opens his mouth to speak once more.

“You’re a curious one, Chenle. You have more questions; I can see it in your eyes.”

Chenle blinks, for it’s the first time someone can read him so easily like that, and takes a while to gather his thoughts. “How did you know I needed help?” he asks.

“Whenever someone makes a wish strong enough, fairies can sense it. Then we appear to help the human in need,” Jaemin explains, and even though Chenle doesn’t completely understand, he’s willing to suspend his disbelief. “So tell me: how can I help you?”

“I want to attend the Ball,” Chenle answers immediately. “But I can’t go looking like,” he wrinkles his nose and gestures at the clothes he’s wearing, “ _this._ ” Jaemin gives him a once-over. Chenle’s top is tattered, barely held together by a multitude of patches and stitches, and his pants, if you could even call them that, are baggy and way too short for him.

“Hmm… That’s easy. I can change that.” Jaemin waves a dismissive hand, which piques Chenle’s curiosity.

“How?”

“You’ll see. Do you have anything in mind?”

Chenle tries to think of something he’d like to wear, but his mind draws a blank as he realises that he has completely no idea of what an occasion like this calls for. And why would he? All his life, he wore clothes out of necessity, not out of vanity. The thought that clothes could serve an aesthetic purpose as well as a functional one is something that he’d never even considered. The excitement drains away from his face little by little, and he shakes his head, frowning.

“That’s not a problem, I’ll come again tomorrow,” Jaemin grins, but Chenle’s frown only deepens.

“Again? What if someone sees you? People talk a lot in this village.”

Jaemin quirks a brow. “Don’t worry, a fairy is visible only to the person who’s made a wish. I’m invisible to everyone else.”

“Oh.” And for a long time, there is silence, as Chenle tries to take it all in. Jaemin is looking at him calmly, standing completely still save for the beating of his wings, which Chenle can’t tear his eyes away from.

“Your wings are beautiful…”

The smile that spreads slowly across Jaemin’s face is bright enough to rival the sun. Chenle glances at him, impossibly awestruck. For Jaemin is unmistakably _glowing_ , his entire body dancing with light, like a beacon in the yawning darkness.

Chenle feels as if his heart is in his throat, suspended on a delicate thread.

“Can I touch them?” He whispers, wanting to preserve the magic of the moment.

Jaemin nods, then turns around. He spreads his wings as wide as possible, until they’re extending all the way out from his back. Stretched to full length, his wings are longer and larger than he is, and even more beautiful than Chenle could’ve imagined.

Chenle lifts a tentative hand and reaches out to touch one of the wings. Like silk, it feels incredibly soft, bending beneath his touch. Chenle sweeps his fingers across, and the whole wing ripples with translucent waves. When he retracts his hand, Chenle gasps. His fingertips are dusted gold.

“This must be a dream,” Chenle sighs contentedly, rubbing his thumb and index fingers together and watching tiny golden flecks of fairy dust float gently to the ground, “A fairy appeared and I touched his wings. This isn’t real. It can’t be.”

“No, Chenle.” Jaemin frowns, shaking his head vigorously, affronted that he can still doubt the certainty of what happened. He takes Chenle’s hand and presses it to his chest, and Chenle’s fingers dig into the thin of the fabric.

“Do you feel this?”

Chenle nods. The warmth of Jaemin’s bare skin on his hand is electrifying. A good few seconds later, he shifts his gaze from his hand to Jaemin’s eyes, and promptly loses himself in them.

“I’m real. And I’m here for you.” Jaemin clenches Chenle’s hand a little tighter, the heat melting through Chenle’s skin.

“So…” Chenle sucks in a long, slow breath, filling his lungs with the chilly evening air. “That means, you’re mine?”

Jaemin laughs, soft as a spring breeze. “In a sense, yes.”

In Jaemin’s eyes, Chenle finds the universe.

 

 

“Don’t worry, I already have something in mind,” Jaemin answers when Chenle asks him again what he has decided to make him wear.

“Will it look good?” Chenle presses on; Jaemin can’t help but snort in derision.

“You’re seriously asking me this question? Of course! I wasn’t voted ‘Most Fashionable Fairy’ for three years in a row for nothing.”

“I didn’t even know there was such a thing,” Chenle quirks his lip in amusement, “but sure, I trust you.”

Jaemin’s heart clenches upon hearing those three words, nonchalant yet sincere, fall from Chenle’s lips. Not that he’s never been bestowed with responsibility before, but the _I trust you_ weighs heavy on Jaemin’s chest, as though Chenle’s referring to more than just the choice of clothing.

Jaemin works to dispel the thoughts from his mind, instead directing his focus onto his magic, pulsating within his body, ready to be unleashed. Soon enough Chenle’s enveloped in a tingling sensation, strange though not at all unpleasant. When the feelings cede, he casts a glance at his torso – the tattered shirt he was wearing has disappeared and instead he has on an absolutely stunning suit the exact shade of the night sky. The cut is exquisite and form-fitting, and the material shimmers under the light, like there are stars sewn onto it.

His gaze then drops down to his legs. They look long and elegant, fitted in a pair of black satin pants.

“How do I look?”

Jaemin drinks in Chenle’s form – the light pink dusting his cheeks, the slightly tousled hair, the twinkle in his eyes, half-hidden in shadows.

_Like a dream._

“Stunning.”

Chenle looks down and bites his lip, not knowing how to react. As an orphan, he never had anything good said about him, only nasty rumours about him whispered under hushed tones and judgmental stares cast his way.

The unpleasant memories sour Chenle’s feelings, rekindling the ghosts of the past. But when Chenle looks up and meets Jaemin’s eyes, he sees himself reflected in them – not a poor orphan doomed to a life in mediocrity, but a boy with his whole life ahead of him, with infinite possibilities to grasp.

He looks at Jaemin and all he sees is the future.

And against the setting sun that traces crisscrossing shadows in Chenle’s cottage, Jaemin thinks that for the first time in decades, he might have fallen in love.

 

 

 

The waves lap carelessly at Chenle’s ankles. He stares at the water as it foams up around his feet, before receding a distance away. The rhythm is relaxing, and he inhales, letting the damp, salty air fill his lungs.

He feels free.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” he says aloud.

The water parts to form a heart around Chenle’s feet in reply. Chenle laughs, turning around to meet Jaemin’s crescent eyes and wide smile.

“Come and play! The water’s nice!” Chenle calls out, and when Jaemin doesn’t budge, he runs over to him and latches onto his wrist, dragging him towards the sea.

“Hey!” Jaemin tries to wriggle out of Chenle’s grasp. Though his hands are small, his grip is surprisingly tight, and he pulls Jaemin all the way to the water’s edge before releasing him.

“Chenle,” Jaemin begins solemnly, “Please never do that again.” Chenle only laughs at him, eyes curving into crescents, and Jaemin’s cheekbones rise of their own volition.

Chenle quietens after some time and turns to casts his gaze upon the horizon, where the sea fades into the sky. Jaemin simply watches him, a profound fondness blooming in his chest. He would pocket the stars and cross the oceans for him, if Chenle had asked.

But he hadn’t, so Jaemin does the next best thing.

“Do you want to fly?” Jaemin offers, wings already raised and poised for flight. The smile that Chenle breaks into could rival the sun.

“Of course!” Chenle agrees in an instant, hopping onto Jaemin’s back and locking both arms securely across his chest. Carrying him, Jaemin begins to trudge across the swathes of pale yellow sand. The grains rise around his feet and cover his ankles with every step he takes, and he hoists Chenle up even higher. His wings flutter rapidly as he slowly ascends, leaving the solidity of the beach behind for now, and Chenle squeals delightedly, digging his fingers into Jaemin’s chest.

“To infinity!” Chenle shouts, with one arm pointing skywards, the other latched securely across Jaemin’s chest.

“And beyond!” Jaemin chuckles, picking up the pace. He eventually breaks into full speed, soaring with the wind in his hair and Chenle’s laughter dancing after him.

 

 

 

“Zhong Chenle, here for the Ball, sir,” Chenle tells one of the footmen guarding the large double doors when he arrives. The footman nods and opens the door, without revealing the tiniest hint of emotion.

Chenle absent-mindedly wonders how he does it, for he’s sure the nervousness he’s experiencing right now is written plainly on his face for all to see. Jaemin did teach him the basic etiquette to be mindful of at balls like this, but it doesn’t help at all to quell the butterflies fluttering inside him. His worries fade away momentarily when the royal ballroom is revealed to him, resplendent in all its grandeur.

White, polished marble floors without so much as a speck of dust. Rows and rows of tables, with no less than fifty different dishes placed on top of them. Seated in the corner, the orchestra is playing a pompous and animated piece that has all the guests dancing. Chenle’s attention, though, is drawn immediately to the large chandelier in the middle of the ballroom, inlaid with crystals and seemingly floating in mid-air. It reminds him somewhat of Jaemin’s wings, big and beautiful, which comforts him a little.

No matter how out of place he feels, he can’t show it, so Chenle walks towards the centre of the ballroom, holding his head high. He spots the prince at once, standing among what must be a dozen people, all vying for his attention. Even from afar, Prince Jisung looks gorgeous, donning a white suit embroidered with gold and silver trimmings. His nose and cheekbones are sharp, as though they were carved out of marble by the best sculptors, but his mouth is soft, falling open ever so slightly as he scans the room, like he’s looking for something.

Jisung’s gaze sweeps past Chenle, once, twice, but the third time he locks eyes with Chenle and Chenle sees him visibly stiffen, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. Everything in the periphery of Chenle’s vision darkens and fades away until all that’s left is Jisung, swathed in light, so bright it’s almost blinding.

Chenle can only stare open-mouthed at the young prince as he walks across the ballroom, with the crowd of suitors fawning over him every step of the way. With every step he takes the realisation grows that Jisung is walking towards _him_ , and Chenle can’t do anything – can’t move, can’t talk, can’t _breathe._

The guests chatter excitedly when Jisung stops in front of Chenle who, too embarrassed to meet his eyes, allows himself only to stare at the tip of his nose.

“Good evening. May I have this dance?”

Even his voice is too die for. Chenle flushes hotly and opens his mouth to reply, but no sound is heard. A low murmur of laughter rings out around him, and Chenle drops his gaze to the floor, ashamed.

Jisung doesn’t let it faze him. “What is your name?” The prince asks, offering his hand to Chenle, who thankfully comes to his senses quickly enough to bow deeply before taking it.

“Zhong Chenle, Your Highness.” Chenle’s voice is thinner than usual, feeling Jisung’s hand envelope his. His hand is soft, like his voice, and Chenle wonders how unpleasant his own hand must be to hold, coarse from years of tough labour.

Jisung smiles then, easy and gracious. “No need for such formalities around me. Please, call me Jisung.”

Chenle feels his cheeks burn. “Your Highness, I cannot.”

“Jisung,” Jisung insists, and when Chenle still looks unsure, he gently says, “If you must, take it as an order.”

“Jisung,” Chenle accedes, the royal name sounding odd and foreign upon his tongue. The crowd that had gathered around them has mostly dispersed, leaving them with some privacy, for which Chenle is grateful.

“So, Chenle, which kingdom are you from?” Jisung opens conversationally.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Which kingdom do you represent?”

It takes a while for Chenle to realise that Jisung asked because he thought he was a member of royalty, and he almost snorts at the irony. “Yours.”

“I admit that I find it quite hard to believe. I could’ve sworn you were a foreign prince.” Jisung is earnest in his praise, as he pulls Chenle towards him to the crescendo of the music.

Chenle laughs, shaking his head. “No, I’m really not.”

Jisung smiles softly. “Tell me about yourself, Chenle,” he says.

And Chenle does. He tells him about the village he grew up in, far away from the palace, and about how he grew up. Maybe it’s his gentle voice, or maybe it’s his understanding smile, but there’s something about Jisung that makes Chenle want to trust him, makes him want to believe that deep down they’re not all that different, despite being worlds apart.

And Jisung listens. He listens to Chenle tell him about how his favourite pastime is skipping rocks by the lake, and how he’d become such good friends with the bookshop owner that he lets Chenle borrow books from him for free. He shakes his head sympathetically when Chenle tells him about his 12-hour workdays at the printing mill, which earns him barely enough. He quietens when Chenle narrates the story of how he lost his parents, just grips onto Chenle’s hands tighter, so Chenle does the same, feeling the heat of Jisung’s palm against his.

Jisung doesn’t let Chenle out of his sight for the rest of the night. They spend most of it dancing, which Chenle soon discovers that Jisung is extremely good at. Chenle doesn’t know a thing about dancing, but Jisung is patient, guiding him along as the music plays with a hand on his waist and the other holding his hand.  

Jisung looks like a dream, and Chenle is enjoying himself, letting his body tell him how to move and where to go. Yet there’s something chafing away at the back of his mind, bit by bit, unsettling him.

Out of the corner of his eye, the chandelier twinkles at him, starry and bright, and he remembers wings.

He remembers flying.

Like a torrent, every memory of Jaemin comes rushing back to the surface, and the combination of sadness and guilt that assails him ends up engulfing him completely, head pounding, world spinning like it’s the end.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Chenle says in a rush, wrenching his hand free of Jisung’s grasp, hoping that somehow, he will _understand_.

There’s a glimmer of confusion in Jisung’s eyes when Chenle bows at him. “No, stay. Please,” Jisung pleads, stretching a hand out, but Chenle takes a step back, just far enough so Jisung can’t see the tears already brimming behind his eyelids.

“I can’t, Jisung. I’m sorry. Please, forget about me.” Chenle’s voice cracks before he can finish the sentence and a tear escapes, streaming down his cheek. Before Jisung can say another word, he turns and runs as fast as he can out of the ballroom, past the guards, stealing away into the darkness.

“Where are you going?” Jisung shouts, but his voice echoes across the vast ballroom without a reply. Chenle is gone.

 

 

“You _what_?” Jaemin asks, as if hearing Chenle say it again will dull the shock –

“I ran away.”

It doesn’t.

Confusion is written all over Jaemin’s face when he asks, “Why?”

“I went to the ball thinking I’d fall in love with the prince, but I came out of it realising that all the riches in the world could never make me as happy as you do,” Chenle confesses, taking Jaemin’s hand in his. “I like the prince, but I _love_ you.”

And _oh,_ something like a noose places itself around Jaemin’s heart, vice-like, tightening with every word that falls from Chenle’s mouth. He can only listen with a sinking heart as Chenle continues, “It’s always been you, even though it took me far too long to realise it.”

A pause, and then, the question that Jaemin has been dreading falls from Chenle’s lips, “Do you love me too?”

Jaemin does not – _cannot_ – answer. For telling the truth would break the oldest law in fairy history, but lying would break his own heart.

“Jaemin? Why are you crying?” Chenle panics, reaching out to place his palm against Jaemin’s cheek.

“I’m not –” Jaemin retorts instinctively, but his voice comes out shakier than intended. He puts a hand up to his face, and is startled by the patch of wetness he feels.

“What’s wrong? Is it because… you don’t like me?” The hurt written plainly on Chenle’s face feels like a knife to Jaemin’s heart, twisting and turning and bleeding it dry.

“No, it’s not that,” Jaemin shakes his head, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Fairies are forbidden to fall in love with humans. I cannot be with you, Chenle.”

“But I’m not asking you to love me back,” Chenle cries, “I just want to be able to meet you. To spend time with you.” He’s shaking as he grips Jaemin’s hand even tighter, unable to bear the thought of letting go.

“I’m sorry, Chenle,” Jaemin exhales, his vision blurred by tears. “I’m sorry.”

 

 

Word spreads far and wide that the prince has fallen head over heels for a young man with beautiful curved eyes and skin as pale as moonlight. The king orders a search, swearing to scout every house in the kingdom until he finds him. Eventually, royal guards descend upon the little village that Chenle lives in, and Chenle hears knocking on his front door.

One of the guards recognise Chenle, and politely but firmly requests a meeting between him and Prince Jisung.

“Give me three days. Then I will meet the Prince.” Chenle is unyielding, and so the guards retire, with his promise of returning to the palace three days later.

That night, Jaemin visits again, and Chenle envelopes him in the tightest of hugs when he sees him.

“You must marry Prince Jisung. Forget about me,” Jaemin instructs with a quivering voice, after Chenle explains what happened. Gently wiping away the stray tear that rolls down Chenle’s cheek, he continues, “He can give you everything you ever want. You’ll never have to suffer again and you’ll live a comfortable life.”

“But I’m not sure I want all that anymore…” Chenle trails off, swallowing hard. “I’m scared, Jaemin.”

Jaemin tells Chenle not to be stubborn. “You need someone who can protect and take care of you, Chenle. I can’t do that. But he can.”

Chenle weeps even harder because deep down, he knows it’s true. Violent sobs rack his body as he buries his head in the crook of Jaemin’s shoulder. Jaemin says nothing, and holds Chenle’s small frame in his arms until eventually, Chenle calms down.

“Please, let me see you again,” Chenle implores, gazing at Jaemin with large, hopeful eyes. They are puffy and swollen from crying, and Jaemin feels his heart clench painfully.

He would pocket the stars and cross the oceans for him, if Chenle had asked. Yet the one thing that Chenle asks for, he cannot give.

How ironic.

Jaemin returns Chenle’s gaze with a smile full of sadness. “Yes,” he promises, thumb grazing against Chenle’s tear-stained cheek. “Though, not like this.”

“Then how?”

“You’ll see.”

Jaemin’s words, like a salve, soothe the ache in Chenle’s heart somewhat.

“So… this is goodbye, then?”

Jaemin’s expression is one of anguish. “Yes, I must go.”

His lips graze Chenle’s forehead, lighter than a drop of morning dew. Chenle tightens his grip on Jaemin’s arm, if only to keep him by his side for just a second longer. Taking a step forward so that he’s chest to chest with Jaemin, Chenle tilts his head to place a soft peck on Jaemin’s lips. When he pulls back, he catches a glimpse of the sadness in Jaemin’s eyes.

“Goodbye, Lele. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” Jaemin says softly, holding Chenle’s gaze until he replies faintly, “I will.”

Maybe part of loving someone is learning to let them go. So Chenle does, letting his hand fall limply by his side.

Jaemin takes a step back, eyes brimming with an unreadable emotion. Then, he melts away into the shadows, taking a fragment of Chenle’s heart with him.

 

 

At the palace, a nervous Jisung stands before his crush, heart stuttering in his chest.

“Zhong Chenle, you stole my breath away when I first laid eyes upon you. It was a short but magical time that we spent together, and you make me the happiest man alive. If you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Jisung pauses to steady his nerves, before asking, “Will you be my prince?”

Chenle meets Jisung’s earnest gaze. He thinks of pink hair and doe eyes, and nods.

 

 

The weeks after their engagement are a frenzy – Chenle is swept up in court etiquette lessons and suit fittings and meetings with the royal family, all while squeezing time in to actually get to know Jisung. Jisung is sweet and kind and gracious, and everything Chenle could ever hope to have as a husband – he tells himself can’t possibly be luckier.

“I love you,” Jisung finally tells him the night before their wedding, with Chenle’s chin resting on his shoulder and their hands interlocked between them. Chenle hums and nuzzles just a little bit closer, and they stay together like this until it’s time for bed.

“I think I love you too,” he whispers later that night, with the moon as the sole witness to his confession.

 

 

The wedding is a lavish one – the king and queen sparing no expense in making sure that their only son is married exactly according to his wishes. Jisung stands at the altar, regal and serene, looking even more handsome than he did on the night of the ball, and this time, it’s Chenle who has his breath stolen away when he lays eyes on the prince. And, on the opposite end of the church, holding a bouquet of white hydrangeas and menta roses, Chenle takes his first step down the seemingly never-ending aisle towards his soon-to-be husband, towards the rest of his life.

 

 

Throughout the rest of his life, Chenle often glimpses a pale pink ball of light, floating in the periphery of his vision. Whenever he tries to approach it, however, it flies away, quicker than Chenle can ever run. He comes close to catching it a few times, but it always zooms away from Chenle’s fingertips, and he can only sigh forlornly as he clutches at nothingness yet again.

He knows it’s Jaemin, but it frustrates him that Jaemin seems intent on keeping that distance.

Eventually, he stops trying to chase after the light and settles for watching it, just as he’s sure Jaemin is watching him.

_“You’ll see.”_

And Chenle thinks that is enough.

 

 

Even on the verge of death, Chenle is beautiful.

This is Jaemin’s first thought when he finally materialises in Chenle’s bedroom, appearing before Chenle in his full form for the first time since the night before Chenle entered the palace. Chenle spots the head of pink hair through half-lidded eyes and breaks into a smile as Jaemin approaches.

“You came to say goodbye,” Chenle murmurs, expression softening as his eyes traverse Jaemin’s face. Even though decades have gone by, Jaemin looks pretty much the same – perhaps a little wearier, a little sadder, but nothing has dulled the sparkle in his eyes.

Jaemin can only nod, trying to hold back the tears, but to no avail – eventually they fall, streaming down his face in rivulets. This close, he can see the wrinkles on Chenle’s face, mapping out the tale of a life well-lived, full of warmth and affection. The light in his eyes has dimmed, but they still crescent beautifully, stirring up Jaemin’s memories from long ago.

“I thought… I’d never see you properly again.” The words are uttered laboriously, as if every little movement wears him out.

“I promised.”

Chenle laughs feebly, and Jaemin’s heart aches as he recalls how bright and full his laughter used to be. Watching Chenle grow weaker day by day yet being powerless to do anything about it was what hurt Jaemin the most. He knew, of course, about human mortality, but that didn’t mean he was at all prepared to face it.

Chenle sighs. “You know, people in my village said that everyone would have a miracle in their lifetime. I never believed them. But now, I do.”

Jaemin stills, heart thundering in his chest. When Chenle smiles at him fondly, it feels like something in the world has shifted.

“Because you were mine,” he breathes.

“Chenle…” There’s a tinge of regret in Jaemin’s tone as he squeezes Chenle’s hand, because he knows words are never enough to describe just how much Chenle means to him, and will always mean to him.

“To infinity?” Chenle asks, and Jaemin perceives in his eyes the same hopefulness that was there the last time they said goodbye, what felt like lifetimes ago. It takes all his strength to hold himself together.

“And beyond,” he vows.

Chenle smiles once more for the last time, lips curving beautifully, and Jaemin mirrors it, feeling as though his heart is breaking. He bends down to press a chaste kiss to Chenle’s lips, and with that, Chenle takes his last breath. He closes his eyes, never to open them again.

 

 

And so with his powers, Jaemin turns Chenle into a star – the brightest one in the entire galaxy. The new celestial body is a welcome addition into the already beautiful patchwork of stars in the night sky, and he takes his place among the other stars around him, glowing as brilliantly as he did when he was alive.

It soon becomes Jaemin’s habit to watch Chenle every night once the sun sets and the moon takes her place in the sky. Sometimes, Chenle will twinkle back, and Jaemin smiles, knowing that he sees him. His heart swells for the boy – the star – whom he loves, and who loves him back, despite the light years that separate them.

For Chenle will always be the brightest star in Jaemin’s universe.

**Author's Note:**

> here is my humble contribution to jaemle nation ;; aaa this is the most challenging thing i've written so far bc it's completely different from what i usually write, and i struggled so hard with this. it's my first time writing fantasy, and for jaemle, a pair that i've never written about romantically, and navigating chenle's feelings for both jaemin and jisung was especially difficult. it didn't turn out exactly how i wanted it, but i do hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! kudos and comments make me rly happy and are greatly appreciated, so please please please leave one if you like it!! thank you for reading! <3
> 
> p.s. i hope you managed to catch the reference in the beach scene! jaemin piggybacking chenle during the we go up behind the scenes is still my favourite jaemle moment to date, and i love everything about it - from how happy they both were to how pretty the entire scene was, so i just knew i had to include it in this fic. watch it again [here](https://youtu.be/8x8lmTLqiLo?t=63) <3


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